


Guilty Pleasures

by BeautifulFiction_FMA



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-09
Updated: 2009-02-09
Packaged: 2018-04-04 20:03:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4151046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulFiction_FMA/pseuds/BeautifulFiction_FMA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Roy tried not to indulge too often."<br/><em>Initially published 2009</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Guilty Pleasures

It was his guilty pleasure.

Roy tried not to indulge too often. He knew he was safe enough. His staff were discreet, and if they thought any worse of him they kept it to themselves. Still, if anything slipped out it would raise suspicions. Questions would be asked, and there were enough rumours around already - gossip which he did his best to quell with icy looks of disdain and indifferent silence. No, this was his secret. If others suspected... . Well, that was their problem. After all, they would be hard put to pin anything definitively slanderous to his name. What could they say?

_“He was watching... .”_

As if they didn't watch themselves. It was hard not to. How could anyone turn a blind eye to that? How could anyone ignore the way it made their pulse race, their muscles hum, their minds fall back on the primitive, basic instincts that drove them all to survive? How could anyone watch Ed fight and not be drawn into the dance?

It did not matter that this was just a sparring session, just a work-out to keep reflexes sharp and a honed body in perfect shape, Ed still acted as if it was his life on the line. He moved as if it was what his body was born to do – to attack and defend, duck and dive and always keep going. Sweat shone off of lightly-tanned skin and his automail gleamed gun-bright in the sunshine.

Summer was in full swing, and Ed wore nothing but the tough leather pants as he circled around his opponent, every step perfectly placed. There was a time when he would never have considered showing his scars in public – locked, perhaps, with a teenager's self-consciousness, or simply wanting to avoid the inevitable questions and pity. Now, though, he was intently focused on the task at hand, rather than the heavy gazes of any onlookers.

The dust of the parade ground billowed in clouds as Armstrong charged, bull-like and massive towards Ed's smaller figure: an unstoppable force bent on destruction. The punch would be pulled, Roy knew that. Alex would rather tear his own heart out than hurt Ed, but that did not stop the breath from catching in Roy's throat as he watched from his office window.

He was too far away to make out Ed's expression, but his attitude was written in the light-footed stance and the angle of his body: cocky confidence, still there after all these years, like he could take on the world and win.

Lightning quick Ed jumped to the side, left palm slamming into the rough ground as he executed the perfect flip and landed already running, sprinting around Armstrong's defence and lashing out with faultless aim.

Alex grabbed his ankle, twisting with practised ease. Ed followed through the motion, letting the momentum carry him through so that he could curl his body around and land not far away, guard up, fists ready... .

God, he was perfect. Long gold hair and wicked eyes, lips that curved in a smile with just a hint of a grin behind it. There was nothing feminine about Ed. Other soldiers lost themselves in machismo and testosterone, trying to best one another in a pointless pre-constructed hierarchy, trying to flaunt how much they were worth.

Ed was different: he had nothing to prove.

Every moment of every day Roy ached for him – for his strength, his vitality and his youth. No one else that he knew threw themselves so whole-heartedly at life. Ed took every moment and revelled in it because he had come so – so close to never drawing another breath.

Roy's eyes flickered to another figure watching from the side-lines, murmuring something to Breda in an amused voice. Al was always there, following Ed through everything. No longer a looming suit of armour, but a young man every bit as strong and certain of himself as his brother. Yet there were differences. Al was more solid and serious. He had a tendency to stop and think where Ed would simply race on ahead and damn the consequences.

That was probably why... .

'Sir, your paperwork?' Hawkeye's voice was as calm and steady as ever, but there was an edge to her words that gave him all the warning he needed. She did not need to back up her wordless threat with the presence of a gun. His time was up; duty called.

******

He knew that he was not alone as soon as he opened the front door. His senses were finely tuned, and Roy knew whether a house was empty or occupied just from the sensation of the air. Like a dog catching the scent he lifted his head to look in the living room, his lips curving in a smirk as lazy golden eyes met his.

Ed was sprawled on the sofa, chest bare and hair loose and tousled around his shoulders. Roy's gaze trailed down his torso, and heat pooled through him in a flash-fire as he saw that Ed's fly was undone, parted a fraction to reveal nothing but secretive shadow. Sunset filled the room with decadent light, making him look like a Cretian god in repose: stunning, flawless and unobtainable.

To others, at least, but not to him.

'You were watching again, weren't you?' Ed asked, his voice low and rough as he propped himself up on his elbows and watched Roy prowl into the room. 'Could feel your eyes on me the whole time.'

Roy raised an eyebrow, shedding his gloves and jacket before unbuttoning the collar of his shirt. 'Does it bother you?' he asked, stroking his fingers and palm along Ed's jaw before curling his fingers in all that long hair and holding him in place.

Ed's lips parted willingly beneath his own, pliant and needy as the hot flash of his tongue tangled with Roy's. Automail fingers caught in Roy's shirt, tugging him down until he broke away, straddling slim hips before bending to nip at Ed's mouth again.

'Pervert,' Ed gasped, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as Roy smiled against his skin and reached down, stroking lower and groaning huskily as Ed arched up, body to body and shaking with a need that only he could satisfy.

It was his guilty pleasure to oblige.

_End_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> B xxx  
> [My Tumblr](http://the-pen-pot.tumblr.com)  
> [My Sherlock Fic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulFiction/works?fandom_id=133185)  
> [My Hobbit Fic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Kingmaker/works?fandom_id=873394)  
> [My Fullmetal Alchemist Fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulFiction_FMA/works)


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